


An Immodest Proposal

by Moria



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, resurrection sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moria/pseuds/Moria
Summary: As Eöl awaits his execution, a spirit approaches him with a most unusual request.





	An Immodest Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



With a resigned sigh, Eöl threw himself against the wall of the detention cell and slid down to the cold hard ground. King Turgon had at least the mind to place some torches to provide some light for the inmates (population: one), although Eöl would not have minded the dark to contemplate his eventual demise. 

He had not meant to kill her. He had not meant to take away the life of his own wife. But the javelin was his, and it was poisoned, and it had pierced Aredhel’s heart, and the king demanded his head as payment for his sister’s death. 

Well, he supposed, that was only fitting. Eye for an eye. Here’s to that mentality not leading to the entire world going blind. 

There wasn’t much in the way of scenery. Nothing for him to pass the time. Just sit here and muse his fate. His ungrateful son was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t expected to see him, especially not after Eöl had decided on killing Maeglin along with himself had Aredhel not stepped in. 

Eöl frowned. If there was an afterlife, if he was going to see Aredhel in a little bit, he really needed to apologize for that.

A gust of wind swept by his feet, as strange and unlikely as it may be, and suddenly he felt a hand clasp behind his neck. He gasped and jumped to his feet. No one was there. 

“It appears I have thought too long that I am beginning to lose my mind,” he said out loud.

“No,” spoke a voice. “You are no longer alone in this cell. I have come to speak with you, elf lord.” 

“Oh. I am losing my mind, then.” 

The voice chuckled. “I assure, you remain as sane as before.”

Eöl settled himself back down. “Some would argue that isn’t saying much about me.” 

“Perhaps. I confess I know little about you. But I do know you are instrumental to the downfall of Morgoth.” 

Eöl snorted. “Now I don’t know who is more mad! What sort of spirit are you?”

He felt the presence shift, so that the cool drift was closer now. He could almost imagine the face peering right at him. 

“I was once an elvensmith like yourself, renowned among the Noldor. I brought most of my kin over from the West to Endor so we may live freely on these lands, and so I may see the end of Morgoth. He had slain my father and taken what was rightfully mine. But my plans did not end well for myself, nor for many of my people.” 

“That is unfortunate,” Eöl said earnestly. He couldn’t hate all of the Noldor. At one time he despised all of them, blamed them for woes his own people had suffered. But Aredhel had been of the Noldor, and their son, as much as he was loathe to admit it, held on to some of his mother’s heritage, and Eöl was fond of him, if a bit frustrated with him at times. 

But Eöl was in a Noldor prison, in a Noldor domain, being punished for the killing of a Noldo wife, and speaking to a Noldo ghost. For a man who had tried to put distance between himself and his Western kin, he had sure done a fabulous job. 

_I should have gone East._

“So how might I be of instrumental help in taking down the greatest force of evil in Arda?” 

“You must let me fuck you.” 

Whatever reply Eöl was expecting, it wasn’t _that_. 

“I…” he swallowed thickly. “What sort of ghost _are_ you?” 

“A spirit belonging to an elvensmith, as I have already said. In death I have mastered a means by which I can rebuild a vessel for myself to inhabit. But in order to remerge spirit and body it requires a heightened wave of emotions, which is often stirred by acts beyond the Halls.” 

“Then why not seek your wife?” 

“She is far too away from where I wish to resurrect.” 

“So you have contented yourself with the idea of using me?"

"Do you have any other option, my fellow smith?”

 _He has a point_ , Eöl thought. He gave a sigh and leaned further back, spreading out his legs. “All yours.” 

He looked utterly immodest. If a guard passed by in this moment, there would be much talk about the deranged lascivious elf in the cells. 

But in that moment something wet pressed over his balls, and he gasped out as the invisible tongue traced its way and and over to the tip of his cock, still sheathed in his leggings. He was not anticipating that, and the thrill of it was enough to stir a pulse through his veins. 

“After my return,” the spirit said against his ear, “I will see to it that your wife returns. Many more of my kin and yours will return.” 

“Not by this means, surely?” Eöl said. “You’ll tire yourself out. I don’t think the Dark Lord will wait around for you forever.” 

The spirit chuckled. “Oh no. I have other means.” 

A tugging motion against the strings of Eöl’s leggings undid them apart, and a moment later, his leggings were discarded a few steps away. Even should his sharp ears pick up the sound of an approaching guard, there would be no way he could snatch his leggings and pull them back up in time. He was left sitting there fully exposed, legs wide open, in semi-public, and unsure what the spirit was going to do next. 

He felt a warmth pressed against a spot right behind his balls, and he gasped again, gripping the sides of the bench. The mouth engulfed the tip of his hardening cock, coating it with wet hotness. He imagined the spirit taking that full length deep in his throat, and his own skull flew back. He nearly cracked his head against the wall, biting down his lips to stifle out the moan. 

The spirit caressed his inner thighs and hips as he sucked him fast and deep, going at a rate that had Eöl seeing stars. He could feel his own soul connecting with his, and for a brief moment there was guilt over the soulbond before he eased himself into it— _This was for the good of all of Arda._

Suddenly he felt himself lifted to his feet. For a moment he thought a guard must have come in and saw his cock standing full erect, full of slick and pre-come. But suddenly he was whipped around and slammed against the wall. The invisible tongue licked his way down his back and over the globes of his ass. The hands parted his cheeks, and into his puckered hole slipped the wet expert tongue. 

Eöl cussed in his mother tongue. He was sure that one echoed in the prison hall, but damn remaining silent. He pressed against his lover’s mouth, seeking as much of his tongue inside him. A hand weaved around his hips and clasped his aching cock once more, giving him long loving strokes. A thumb flicked over the tip, driving him insane enough to want to smash a hole into the wall. 

“I…I can’t hold out much longer,” he gasped, feeling the pit of his belly tightening with something torturously sweet. 

He felt himself being pulled away from the wall just as his climax hit, waves crashing in blissfully, and in that moment the mouth engulfed his entire cock, drinking every last drop of him. Eöl squeezed his eyes shut and thrust the last of his orgasm, filling the spirit with his seed. His legs gave out and he fell on his knees. 

He didn’t open his eyes again until long after the warmth had left his cock. A long-haired elf lay crouched, his muscular back turned from him. Eöl could smell the power from him, scent of the forge and something else, something more ancient and terrifying. 

“It worked,” Eöl said, half-amazed and half-wary. What would happen now, stuck in a cell with a Noldo smith? 

Chuckling, the Noldo spun around, and Eöl was taken aback by his beauty. Unlike any Noldo he had seen, mighty and handsome, eyes alit with a strange fire. 

“I am Fëanor,” he said proudly as he extended a hand, completely unashamed by his own nakedness. “Well met!”

“I believe we are more than familiar with each other by this point,” Eöl said, taking his hand. 

Fëanor laughed and glanced towards the cell doors. “Then what are we waiting for?”


End file.
